


Accept What is Mutable

by beriallen



Category: C-Pop, 创造101 | Produce 101 (China TV), 创造营2020 | Chuang 2020 (TV), 硬糖少女303 | BonBon Girls 303 (Band)
Genre: Astrology, F/F, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27249205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beriallen/pseuds/beriallen
Summary: Based on her outward appearance alone, Liu Xiening would have easily belonged with the clique from Chen Zhuoxuan's school; that group of girls who decided to be cruel because they knew she was different. That her preference was unlike most people's.But Xiening, too, was different. And Zhuoxuan liked different.
Relationships: Liu Xiening | Sally/Chen Zhuoxuan
Kudos: 10





	Accept What is Mutable

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from one of czx's Instagram captions.  
> Includes references to Supernova Games 2020.

Chen Zhuoxuan thought it was bizarre that the Top 7 girls were the last ones to be interviewed for the post-first elimination Q&As. Weren’t they supposed to be the priorities? Then again, the staff also shoved their cameras in front of the eliminated girls and told them to smile or at least wear a vague expression (“so as not to spoil the viewers,” she heard one of the PDs said), so go figure. 

Except for the occasional giggles, the waiting room turned mostly quiet with only the seven of them left. The others must have left to say their goodbyes to the eliminated trainees after they finished with their interviews, and Zhuoxuan was wondering what she should say to the ones who would leave because it just dawned on her that her speech from earlier in the day didn’t exactly give her the appearance of someone who was warm and fuzzy inside. Perhaps, some of them even hated her already. Would they believe her if she told them that she had her reason? 

It didn’t help that she was never the most approachable person, unlike the other girls in the room. Speaking of which— 

“I was surprised when you talked about you being Leo and being ambitious and all,” Xilinnayi Gao nudged her all of a sudden. “For some reason, I thought you wouldn’t believe in astrology.” 

Zhuoxuan let out a small laugh, which sounded fractured in her own ears. “Why would you think so? You’re a Leo yourself, and you believe in astrology.” 

“Well, yeah. But, you know—” Xilin paused to shrug before she continued. “You’re you.” 

The stillness that followed let Zhuoxuan know that the others were listening in on their conversation, and it was as if she hadn't left the stadium where the mentors announced her rank and she was still filming the elimination. Just like then, the other girls’ heads were also turned in anticipation toward hers; the difference was, this time, she hadn’t prepared an elaborate speech. 

“I— Umm— Well,” she started, clumsily. But because, to misquote Xilin, she was her, answers came easily to her. “Why can’t I be me and like astrology at the same time?” 

Zhuoxuan barely finished her sentence when she heard an ecstatic “Wow” from the other side of the room. She looked to the source of the voice and yes, there she was, the Liu Xiening herself, with her signature long black hair that somehow looked more perfectly blown out now, which should have been impossible because it had been a couple of hours since they met their hairstylists. 

“For what it’s worth,” Xiening said, then. “I think you’re really cool. I wish I could be as bold as you.” 

Zhuoxuan noticed Xiening’s washed out makeup and figured that the other girl had been crying. Her lipstick gone, her mascara wiped out by her tears, and yet, she was still one of the prettiest girls Zhuoxuan had ever seen. Not just in this castle, Zhuoxuan thought, but in Shenzhen, probably. Or maybe in her lifetime. 

“You’re so smart,” Xiening added, and smiled. 

Zhuoxuan had to disagree, because at this time, she felt like the biggest fool on earth. 

She was an anomaly, Liu Xiening. 

Based on her outward appearance, Xiening would have easily belonged with the clique at Zhuoxuan’s school; that group of girls with their perfect egg-shaped faces, almond eyes and high-bridged noses that came complete with the ability to sniff other students’ fear and admiration from miles away. And when they chanced upon Zhuoxuan, they could somehow sense it, that she was _different._ That her preference was _different_. And then they decided to be cruel about it. 

Sometimes Zhuoxuan believed they were the reason she got so quick-tongued. Coming out with witty comebacks had been her defense mechanism against them. 

Her first interaction with Xiening happened sometime before the first evaluation stage. Zhuoxuan was in her room when Xiening, being Xiening, burst through the door with a grin plastered on her lips. Normally, this kind of intrusion would annoy Zhuoxuan to no end, but at the time, she was just glued to the ground—and stared. Xiening had makeup on and she wasn’t wearing her training clothes, which could only mean that she just came home from shooting a commercial. At the time, it was already a well-known fact among the trainees that Liu Xiening would buy them outside food whenever she had an activity beyond the castle. Indeed, between her roommates’ flailing arms and bodies leaping in pure excitement, Zhuoxuan caught a glimpse of the transparent plastic bags that Xiening was holding. The scent of an enticing food that wafted from them and through the air made Zhuoxuan’s stomach growl and she was suddenly grateful that her roommates were too busy chanting Xiening’s then-new-found nickname. 

Zhuoxuan watched as a tangle of fingers fought over chopsticks and the girls scrambled around to grab a bite of the snacks Xiening bought for them. It was quite unlike Zhuoxuan to be drawn to a commotion, but her feet slid forward to join the others without her knowing it. To be completely honest, she liked the fact that table manners were not encouraged in the castle. More than that, she had come to realize that she actually enjoyed being around these unruly girls. 

“Eh, Chen Zhuoxuan!” 

A voice calling her name derailed Zhuoxuan’s train of thought. When Zhuoxuan looked up, the first thing she saw was Liu Xiening with her perfect egg-shaped face, almond eyes and high-bridged nose. Out of habit, she flinched, bracing for impact. 

What came after, though, was far from an insult or a mocking remark she had gotten used to. 

“Have some!” Xiening said, and looked right at her. Zhuoxuan told herself that she only gazed back because she had no other choice. 

But Xiening turned away, then. Apparently, she had other places to be and more exhausted trainees to feed. She pivoted and left the room afterward, as swift and loud as the way she came in. 

Zhuoxuan mumbled to herself, “Well, that was different.” 

Zhuoxuan was a diligent student and a good actress. She knew what was expected of her and could play her part well. When she was informed that the survival show wanted the trainees to be daring, she decided to act accordingly. So she challenged the higher-ups, compared herself with the mentors. And yet, she became an object of online ridicule. 

She discovered that “daring” meant something else for some others. For Xiening, for instance, being brave was having the courage to laugh at herself. 

Thankfully for Xiening, she wasn’t the only one laughing. The other girls, clearly adoring her, were always on the lookout for her; the cameramen would literally run all the way across the room to get a shot of her, especially whenever she was standing at least two feet away from Xu Yiyang. And it wasn’t just because she was the class clown or always had something hilarious to say; there was also the fact that Xiening looked good on camera—and off. Zhuoxuan could just make out the smiles that transpired on the faces of most of the male persons in the castle—the crew, the PDs and even the mentors—whenever Xiening was within their vicinity. 

Like the others, Zhuoxuan found Xiening funny; she would cackle at the way Xiening fake-wrestled another trainee, then try to recall the last time she felt this much joy. Zhuoxuan also found Xiening sad; she was one of the first-hand eyewitnesses to Xiening’s fall into emotional distress. Sometimes Zhuoxuan caught Xiening weeping silently in the changing room and she was so close to shaking Xiening’s arms violently and screaming at her, “Who knows whose rank keeps dropping too? Mine! You can talk to me!” 

But she wasn’t _that_ brave. The show’s slogan was easier sung than done. 

At the finale, Zhuoxuan stood behind Xiening on the giant, brightly-lit stairway where the final seven were so dramatically displayed. There, she studied the way Xiening’s back quivered as she sobbed uncontrollably, her whole body slumped forward in utter defeat, her eyes fixed on the floor underneath her. For the first time in her life, Zhuoxuan learned of the weight of a broken heart. 

Backstage, a few minutes before their debut interview with the media began, someone yelled out their group’s name and made them gather in a specific spot so the staff would know where to easily find the girls if and when they were needed. Zhuoxuan did as told and waited, scanning the organized chaos that surrounded her: crew members congratulating each other, publicists spitting words to their phones, makeup artists scattering around. Amidst all these, Xiening emerged. And not the Xiening from earlier, but the hair-flipping professional Zhuoxuan met at the audition. 

“I’m here,” Xiening cried out all of a sudden, yet hardly as cheerful as usual. She rushed over to Zhuoxuan’s right, and their shoulders bumped against one another in the process. Zhuoxuan stole a glance at Xiening, and she figured that one of the makeup artists she saw earlier must have erased any trace of tears from the other girl’s features. When Xiening turned to smile at her, Zhuoxuan was reminded that Xiening had an acting experience as well. 

“Are you okay?” she wanted to ask before stopping herself, because she already knew the answer to _that_. The noises around them were getting deafening, and Zhuoxuan raked her brain for another question, a sympathetic phrase, anything, when Xiening suddenly leaned closer. 

“I’m glad I’m next to you," Xiening whispered, putting her lips next to Zhuoxuan’s ear. “Maybe I can be as smart as you this way.” 

Zhuoxuan chuckled at that, or maybe at the way Xiening’s breath tickled her cheek. Whichever it was, it drew a knot in her stomach and sent warm rays to her chest. 

Zhuoxuan had always wanted to run to the highest peak, but at the time, she found out that maybe she could take her time climbing toward it. Being here at the side was not so bad after all, especially with such a wonderful companion beside her. 

Zhuoxuan and Yifan had always known that the master bedroom was never meant for just the both of them. On some rare nights where they got off work at a reasonable hour, the seven of them would assemble there to watch TV. Some other nights, the girls just brought themselves to the room for no reason, and then they just started sharing; from snacks and bubble tea to stories and gossips. 

The company allowed them nights off as long as they didn’t miss practice or recording. Which was how Zhuoxuan found herself alone in the room one late night, as Yifan was spending some family time with her mom and would not be returning until the next morning. 

The master bedroom occupied the center of the topmost floor of the house, with Zhao Yue and Wang Yijin’s double room in one corner, and Xiening’s single room in another. On the bottom floor was Nene’s, where she usually sang herself to sleep, and Xilin’s, which was empty a lot of the time. 

Since her room was missing Yifan’s hysterical guffaw for the night, Zhuoxuan could faintly hear Zhao Yue’s and Yijin’s cackles from across the hall. Stars were aligned for those two best friends, but not so much for the other, Zhuoxuan thought, and she involuntarily glanced at the wall on her right. There should be Xiening on the other side of the wall, as alone as her. 

Or perhaps not. 

As if on cue, there was a knock on her bedroom door. And even as Zhuoxuan called for her guest to come inside, she already figured out who it was. 

“Xiao Chen,” Xiening said as she let herself in. Xiening was the only member who refused to refer to her as “Chen Jie” because, as she had once explained half-seriously, “There could only be one Jie in this house!” 

“What do you want for your birthday?” Xiening asked, plopping down on the bed beside Zhuoxuan in the meanwhile. The question amused Zhuoxuan, because she knew Xiening had an ulterior motive. 

Among the seven, Nene was probably the one who spent the night outside the least, because she was only acquainted with a small handful of people in Beijing. The seven of them generally got the same amount of free time, so all of them would almost always arrange meet-ups and hang-outs with friends or families simultaneously. And whenever Wu Yalu wasn’t available on their schedule-free nights, Nene would opt to just chill at home, and she would have been alone, if it wasn’t for Xiening who would stay behind with her. Xiening never admitted this, but Zhuoxuan could tell that Xiening did it intentionally. It was something Xiening mentioned in passing about having been in Nene’s shoes, a foreigner in an unfamiliar land. Xiening herself didn’t seem to recognize the irony of it all, that someone who preferred to sleep in a lonely room was the same person who wouldn’t allow her friends to experience an ounce of loneliness. 

And now she was here, in the master bedroom under the pretense of needing to know what Zhuoxuan wished for her upcoming birthday, because Xiening wanted to somewhat secretly accompany her. 

Zhuoxuan played along. “Up to you.” 

Xiening rolled her eyes. “Ah, don’t make me pick!” she whined. “I can’t choose, I’m a Libra!” She squinted at Zhuoxuan, then. “Aren’t you Leos supposed to always know what you want?” 

“You remember I’m a Leo?” 

“Xilin said it’s another Libra thing. I can’t remember what I had for breakfast, but I remember our conversation from months ago at the show.” Xiening paused here, and continued after a beat, “You remember the first elimination?” 

“Sure." Zhuoxuan swallowed. "What else did Xilin say?” she asked too, and immediately regretted it. She was on a bed with Liu Xiening and she was talking about another girl instead. 

Xiening shrugged nonchalantly. “That I’m a flirt.” 

Zhuoxuan blinked. 

Xiening, meanwhile, was seemingly unaffected. She yawned and threw her head on the pillow, and Zhuoxuan thought about all the times in the castle when the girls called her the “Iron Fool”. The memory made Zhuoxuan giggle, briefly, and if Xiening thought that was weird, she didn’t show it at all. Besides, Xiening was too busy surveying the ceiling to notice. Zhuoxuan looked at her from the corner of her eye, and wondered what went on the other girl’s mind, when Xiening asked all of a sudden, “You know what else I remember?” She didn’t wait for a reply, and resumed, “The VCR at the finale night. What you said about your grandfather.” 

Zhuoxuan drew a gasp. Xiening must have watched the video they played before her group performed their final song. It was where Zhuoxuan mentioned her late grandfather for the first time on the show. 

“You know I lost my grandpa too,” Xiening said, matter-of-factly. 

Zhuoxuan hesitated, but replied nonetheless. “Yes.” She wasn’t sure if she should elaborate. Like herself, Xiening seemed reluctant to talk about her grandfather unless she was prompted. The only reason Zhuoxuan knew about it was because she had read one of Xiening’s interviews with the press. 

Xiening, though, never demanded an explanation out of her. Instead, she just picked up where she left off. 

“I promised I’d take him anywhere he wanted to. Anywhere in the world,” Xiening murmured, almost inaudibly. Zhuoxuan lay her head on her pillow and scooted closer to Yifan’s side of the bed, across where Xiening was sprawling, to hear her better—or so Zhuoxuan tried to convince herself. 

“But it’s too late,” Xiening sighed afterward. 

Zhuoxuan shifted to lie on her side to get a better view of Xiening, still fixated on the ceiling. Xiening’s eyelids looked heavy; the conversation must be weighing down on her. Zhuoxuan offered her response, then, lest Xiening fell completely asleep. Her voice was soft when she spoke; careful not to startle Xiening. 

“Then we’ll go around the world,” Zhuoxuan whispered. “Bring their photographs with us. It will be like taking a piece of them with us.” 

Xiening let out a short hum at this, like she was really mulling over it. It wasn’t long before she turned her head toward Zhuoxuan, their eyes meeting in the process. Zhuoxuan felt her own pupils widening and she stopped to wonder whether Xiening realized that she had been staring. 

Xiening just smiled weakly at her. “I’d love that,” Xiening said, and there was a sleepy drawl in her speech. “Let’s go together.” 

Zhuoxuan beamed at the suggestion and closed her eyes, dreaming of a beautiful future. 

The incoming birthday messages had begun to dwindle down after the sun set, which was a relief. Zhuoxuan and the members had been restlessly practicing for their performance the next morning, and she barely had the time to read, much less reply to the texts. Moreover, although the others tried with all their might to hide it from her, she knew they had prepared a small celebration for her, so she figured she’d spend the last hours of her birthday partying with the girls. She just hoped there would be a cake involved. 

To her delight, there was not one, but two cakes. For the girls, that meant more desserts and also, more frosting to smear on each other’s faces. Amidst the mayhem, Zhuoxuan only had the chance to check her phone again after midnight. 

A notification was staring back at her when she fished her phone out of her pocket. She got tagged. By Xiening. 

She slid it open, and the screen gave way to Xiening’s congratulatory post on social media. It was short, the message. But she saw it, the last two words: “Love you.” 

Zhuoxuan’s breath caught. She had to reply; it was only polite to do so. But her fingers were still sticky from the icing, and she kept punching in the wrong characters. And words might usually come easy for Chen Zhuoxuan, but it wasn’t every day she received a love confession. 

Not that she believed it was a real confession. Or maybe she did. Hoped. Whatever. 

The other girls were on a sugar high, chasing one another around the room and screaming so loud, that she could hardly hear herself think. For a split second, she wondered if she had become an “Iron Fool” herself, and the thought made her laugh, until it didn’t. Perhaps she didn’t always have to be the smart one; maybe for once she could follow the “Iron Fool”. 

She typed her reply, then. 

“Love you.” 

The staff at the company told them to treat the 3-day sports event as a mini family holiday, since they would spend most of the times sitting around, playing with their phones and chatting with each other anyway. A broadcasted one, but a holiday still. 

And like most family holidays, it came with its own disasters and more tears than Zhuoxuan had anticipated. 

One positive takeaway was Xiening was so occupied in making a fool of herself to try to make Yijin smile, that she didn’t have much chance to overthink her mistakes on the gymnastics floor. Zhuoxuan felt responsible to help Xiening out and chuckled along, which didn’t prove that successful. Yijin didn’t brighten up until later on. The event was finally ending, and the girls were huddling together at a spot in the stadium. Just seven new bloomers, with little understanding of the industry and so susceptible to errors. Zhuoxuan didn’t know who initiated it, but she found herself in the middle of a group hug before she knew it. The music blaring from the speakers was their own song; cheerful and promise-filled. “We are young,” she listened to her own voice singing. 

“We are young!” Xilin repeated the words, shouting above the noises so the others could hear. “So we fall, but we’ll get back up again!” 

Xilin might have meant that to be motivational, but the others laughed at the cheesiness of it all instead. Zhuoxuan looked up and saw Yijin across her, and the ends of Yijin's mouth curled slightly upward. Zhuoxuan let out a breath, and Xilin’s short speech from earlier started to make sense. It was only a matter of time until they could all return to their hotel, go to bed and sleep the whole thing away— 

—Then it happened right in front of her. One second Xiening leaned forward, blocking her view of Yijin. Then Nene, who was standing across from Xiening, met her halfway. And then they kissed. 

Granted, it was more like a peck on the lips, rather than a real kiss. But it was enough to steal the air out of Zhuoxuan’s lungs. She was frozen in place as she watched Xiening turned to kiss Yifan afterward. So easily, with no moment of hesitation. It was almost funny how calm Xiening was about this. Almost. 

Zhuoxuan spent the next few minutes alternating between drifting off in contemplation and snapping back to reality. There was a feeling akin to relief that washed over her when she heard a voice echoing from the speakers, ushering the athletes to clear the venue. Zhuoxuan was more than glad to comply, but the queue of people heading toward the backstage was impossibly long, she realized she was going nowhere. 

A slight poke made her jump, and when Zhuoxuan glanced to her left, she found Xilin smiling meekly at her. Xilin put an arm around Zhuoxuan’s shoulders afterward; times like this she almost forgot that the other girl was younger than her. 

“Hey,” Xilin said, then. “Libras, right?” 

Zhuoxuan knitted her eyebrows at that, wondering what Xilin knew. But when Xilin squeezed her shoulder, there was a sense of comfort she never knew she needed, and all kinds of questions in her mind disappeared. 

Zhuoxuan sighed loudly, then. It felt like acceptance. 

End.


End file.
